


He Wears Short Skirts, I Wear Booty Shorts

by cyrusbarrone



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Cheerleaders, Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 03:26:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2135301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyrusbarrone/pseuds/cyrusbarrone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since coach had written their name down for the competition Bucky knew that they were going to win. However, Steve Rogers had different ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Wears Short Skirts, I Wear Booty Shorts

All the work they'd done was leading up to this moment, ever since coach had signed them up for this competition it was all for this. The final, the sweat and the grit and the sheer competition, covered in a little bit of glamour. The national rounds, they'd aced, and all the ones straight up to the semi finals they'd aced, and confidence was high for them to win against the other team.

Bucky was determined to beat the other team. They called themselves The Captains, and they wore colours of the United States flag. Bucky hated them. Hated how they were as good as he and his group was, and he most of all hated their group leader. But saying that wouldn't be right, he didn't hate him, he hated the fact that the man wouldn't let up on his optimism even when Bucky's cheer team was better- chanting louder, thrilling further.

"There ain't nothing to worry about," coach soothes, like Bucky didn't already know. "Y'all are on a winning routine an' as long as none of you are fucking up, then we're gonna whoop The Captain's asses!" the team cheered, because that's what they do.

They weren't competing for another hour or so, and the time was spent with sweat dribbling down his forehead and his throat raw from shouting commands at his team. They were The Soliders, and they took his damn orders and they looked good doing it. The long silver sleeve on their left arms all glimmering prettily in the sun. 

They stopped practicing fifteen minutes before they were due to be in front of the judges, to reapply colored make up and dab at the sweat on brows and under pits. Nobody wanted to see a sweat marked cheerleader, winning routine or not. 

Bucky's running a cloth over the sleek metal of his arm, the judges always made comments about having what they called a 'paralympian' on the cheer team as something to give credit for. Coach told him to play on that, make his arm shine, so he did, long dark hair hanging in his face where he sits away from the laughs of his cheer team. 

A hand clasps at his shoulder, the one he can still feel in, and he turns around, head up and eyes questioning who was disturbing him. He sees the outfit first. Red and white stripes under a white star with blue background for a shirt, leading down to tight blue shorts that gave no room for the imagination of what Rogers' ass would be like to grab. 

"How about some pre-show luck?" the blonde in questions asks, one of those easy smiles sliding onto his face. He was pretty and aware of it.

Bucky carefully puts down the cloth on top of his bag, and raises an eyebrow, slight smirk pulling a the sides of his lips. "And what might that involve, Rogers?" he asks, though he's standing up, pulling at where the short part of his skirt is hitched into his ass. He was never one for elegance when he wasn't in the sport. 

Steve, he'd insisted when they first met that Bucky didn't call him by his last name, smiled and shrugged those muscular shoulders of his. "I don't know. I guess you're going to have to come find out," he says. Bucky knows it's not a question. 

Steve leaves then, and Bucky watches him go. Watches the muscle of his shoulders as his arms swing, and then his eyes go south and he stares at his ass in those tight blue shorts and knows that he has no chance of saying no to whatever this good luck was. He sighs at himself for being so goddamn easy, and then follows the leader of The Captains to behind the audiences bleachers.

It's not a pretty spot. There are beer bottles, cigarette butts and anything else from the raw end of foul. It stinks faintly of weed and the other half a cleaner that didn't work. Bucky had certainly been to better places for luck, but perhaps not with a better person.

"You don't say much, do you, Bucky?" asks Rogers from a few steps in front of Bucky. He looks like he doesn't have a care in the world, and it seeps through to Bucky, and he forgets everything but the here and now. He doesn't grace the question with an answer, he just steps forwards until the toes of their shoes touch and he can feel the others breath. He fidgets his metal fingers at the pleat of his skirt.

Their mouths touch, just a touch. "Ain't you gonna wish me good luck?" Bucky murmurs, before slotting their mouths together. It isn't the first time they've done this, and he's gotten used to how he kisses. With passion. Their mouths fit together well, lips sliding wet and slick over the others until their lips are cherry red. Bucky's the one who sticks his tongue in Steve's mouth, tonguing around his teeth before rubbing his tongue wantonly against the blondes. 

They pull away, breath heavy. "Good luck?" offers Rogers, before they're kissing again, all tongues and spit and perfect. Bucky's got his fingers squeezing into the flesh on Steve's ass, groping without care as his other hand holds securely to the other man's neck. Steve has his hands on Bucky's waist, because he's a gentleman, and Bucky knows that if his hands go anywhere near his skirt then it's coming the fuck off. 

Their teeth knock together and sounds go one around them, loud music and cheering and people speaking words he can't hear. That is until they separate again, and it's like pulling his head out of water.

They're announcing The Soliders and their routine, and Bucky gasps and glares at the obvious sabotage from the other team. "Oh, it is on, Rogers!" he shouts as he runs off to get to his team, his skirt flapping around his thighs. He turns his head, "sabotage!"

Bucky's panting when he gets to his team, hair falling in his face and Steve's honest laughter in his ears. He smiles besides himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who just saw The Winter Solider and needed to write about Bucky? Me.
> 
> (i am aware that the metal arm is unlikely in like 'normal' life but fuck it, the metal arm is the hottest thing so i wasn't leaving it out!
> 
> and c'mon, who wouldn't put steve in booty shorts)


End file.
